The Importance of Rhyme
by fantasychica37
Summary: A "gift" for AO3 writer nanjcsy. Ramsay puts Theon through unspeakable tortures in a brilliantly-crafted plan to create a slave loyal to him forevermore- that is, brilliantly crafted until the final, and most crucial, step. Thank you, Internet, for the inspiration!


Once upon a time, there was a lord of the North named Roose Bolton who sired the most sadistic bastard ever to walk the land.

However, let's be fair. Ramsay Snow's corruption was caused at least in part by the hideous servant Roose sent to appease Ramsay's mother. This servant would hardly be missed, as he had what we today call carotenemia. Back then, though, all they knew was that for some reason his skin was orange, which is what they called him.

Years passed. Orange died. Ramsay became Roose's sole living son. And one man, angry, insecure and frankly quite idiotic, took Winterfell and then bungled the job, and Ramsay saw his chance.

Of what happened next I will not provide details, save that Theon Greyjoy was tortured, flayed, and forced to eat endless amounts of carrot and sweet potato while Ramsay drank copious amounts of water and ate protein-rich sausage before Theon's very eyes.

Sometime in this interval, Ramsay sent a very special package winging to Pyke, which incited the outrage of its Lady, who raced across the sea as fast as she could.

But neither Ramsay nor Theon knew of this, so when Theon was broken to Ramsay's satisfaction, Ramsay drew near to him and murmured, "You don't look like Theon Greyjoy anymore. That's the name for a Lord. But you're not a Lord. Aye, you're just meat. Orange _meat_." Then he drew back suddenly, delighted, and cried, "Orange! That's a good name for you!"

Theon whimpered desperately.

"Orange. I like it," declared Ramsay, the smile on his face growing bigger. "Orange. Orange, orange, it rhymes with..."

Ramsay hadn't thought this far ahead.

"It rhymes with..." Ramsay repeated, the grin on his face sagging a little.

The strangest sounds were coming from Theon's mouth, and Ramsay was glad that his pet was still afraid of him despite this embarrassing moment. What peculiar noises of terror he was making!

"I'll be back, my Orange," Ramsay smiled, and ran from the room yelling, "Maester! Get me a dictionary!"

Ramsay returned fifteen minutes later with a heavy, dusty tome, murmuring random words under his breath and getting more agitated by the second. He plopped down by the table and started reading, muttering "Abaca, abaciscus, abacist, aback, abaco..." Theon- excuse me, _Orange_- was still making those strange noises. Good.

And that's where he was one week later when Yara and her men burst in, shouting, "Stand down, Sno- wha?"

Ramsay said, "Zaporozyhe, zapote, zapotec, zapp, zappa... Go away, I'm trying to find a word that rhymes with orange! I told you not to disturb me! Zapper, zappy, zaptiah..."

"He's calling me Orange and wants to find a rhyme for it," Theon said softly, with a quiver in his voice, as the Ironborn let him down and gave him water. They tiptoed past Ramsay, still nose-deep in the dictionary, and the last Ironborn out shut the door behind him, but it squeaked on its hinges. They ran.

"DOOR HENGE!" exclaimed Ramsay, jumping up. "THAT'S IT! Door henge! Orange, orange, it rhymes with door henge! Orange, o... _Orange?!_"

He opened the door and saw a dead guard and the glint of men in armor running down the hallway.

"Door Henge!" Ramsay wailed, breaking into a run. "Come baaaaaaaaack!"

"Loose the dogs," Ramsay commanded to a guard he ran past. "My Door Henge is escaping!"

"I'm sure we can find you another door henge, Lord Ramsay," said the guard placatingly. "We can make one from Domeric Bolton's bones, would you like that? Now let's go to bed..."

But Ramsay broke free of the guard's grip and bolted out of the castle, his pink cloak flying in the wind as he screamed, "DOOR HENGE! DON'T LEAVE MEEEEE!" He was followed by a long line of guards shouting, "Lord Ramsay, you need to go to sleep if you want a new door henge! It's like when Father Winter comes, my lord!" and the Dreadfort's elderly maester, who just so happened to be naked, yelling, "AAAAH COLD! COLD!"

"Don't you know, Ramsay?" Theon shouted back from the lifeboat. "There are only a few words in the Common Tongue that have no rhymes, and "orange" is one of them!"

And as they climbed back onto the Ironborn boat, Ramsay sank to his knees and let out a heartbroken wail of, a href= "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" /a

Meanwhile, the strange sounds Ramsay had been hearing from Theon for a week finally broke loose- as almost-crying, earsplitting laughter.

(Afterwards Theon and Yara had a huge shouting match that resulted in Theon learning the truth about his mother, being dropped off at Ten Towers, and causing his mother's gradual return to sanity as well as the happiest look he had ever seen on a person's face- but that, my friends, is a story for another time.)

And everyone, except Ramsay, who was given heavy doses of milk of the poppy and tied to his bed, lived happily ever after.

**The End.**


End file.
